Hope
by poison-maestro
Summary: Hoffnung, Roxas." When all you can do is believe. Summary sucks as usual. Just read it.
1. Chapter 1

Wow, sorry... this is entirely random, but we're learning about WWI and II in history, and I had to read this paper on it. Weird inspiration, I telly ya.

T because of violence.

Disclaimer - Not mine

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Hope

Troops stomped around outside the many buildings, citizens of the burning town calling out to loved ones. Those who were lucky to have not already been taken by the Nazis and their ideals new it was only a matter of time. But… there was a small spark of hope. News and stories had traveled, by word of mouth, that people were coming… that they had the chance to be saved—if only they could hold out.

In one particular home, where the streets were covered in snow, sat two Germans—lovers to be precise, and they held tightly to each other's hands as they gazed into the fire burning in the hearth. Both had worn and baggy rag-like clothes wrapping their bodies, as they had yet to be able to afford anything more. Yet that wasn't the only thing wrong with the scene.

"Hey Ax…" Started the smaller of the two, his blonde hair handing limp, though it still had a slight flip to it on one side. His voice was rough from disuse, and a sickness could be heard, clinging to the back like some kind of parasite. The other grunted in reply. "Do you think Leon and Cloud'll be alright?" A deep sadness bellied his words.

However, there was no reply to his question. Dispirited blue eyes traveled slowly to the face of the red head that had laid his head upon Roxas' shoulder. He was shrugged off. "Stay awake, Axel."

Axel looked at him through tired eyes, black bags underlining his exhaustion. "I dunno, Roxas." He released and enormous yawn, mouth opening to show his sore filled mouth. "Remember what Sora said, though? That people were coming? Maybe he was right… he and Riku seemed to bel—" He broke off abruptly as a scream was heard almost directly outside their door.

The two men crouched closer together, bodies sliding across the cold floor so that they were directly touching each other; their eyes were trained on the small wooden door of the shack. "Axe—!!" Banging sounded on the door, along with gruff voice that spoke in swift German. The voices were harsh, and chilled by more than the weather. They demanded the door be opened.

"Roxas," Axel whispered hurriedly, "Go hide in the other room. I'll come and get you in a moment."

Roxas opened his mouth to reply heatedly. There was _no way_ he would just leave Axel out here to deal with the Nazis. "Go!" After hesitating another moment, he decided to comply; the look Axel's face was too much.

After making sure that no trace of Roxas was in the room, Axel stood, a glint in his eyes as he straightened his rags and went to the door that might possibly spell his death. His footsteps seemed to echo in the small room, their noise being all that was heard—not even the fire dared breathe a sound. The handle of the door clicked as it unlocked, and it was very quickly and unceremoniously opened by those on the outside, their guns firing into the room before they even stopped to see who exactly occupied it.

Roxas watched in horror from his spot inside the cabinet slightly to the left of the kitchen door frame—they couldn't see him, but _man oh man_, could he see them. Tears sprang to his eyes and he had to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep himself from screaming as Axel fell to the ground like a rag doll, where his body lay motionless.

The Nazi Germans did a quick check around the first room for any sign of other life, though they didn't come to the back room where Roxas sat huddled. Before they left though, they kicked at the fire, causing a log to come rolling out to where it set the smallest of rugs on fire. It billowed up quickly, growing in size and heat.

As soon as the men had left, Roxas sprang from his hiding position, and ran as fast as his weak legs would take him to the side of his love. "Get up," He shouted. "Get up, Axel!" The man on the floor gurgled slightly as blood bubbled over his chin.

Metallic eyes slid over to Roxas' face; Roxas grabbed Axel's hand and cupped his own face in it, all his life and soul as he watched that of his partner slowly disappear. "No, no, no, no…" He muttered. Axel made another gurgling sound, though this one had some actual words behind it.

"Hoff—" He broke off into a coughing fit. Roxas flinched, before placing his ear directly over Axel's mouth.

"Hoffnung, Roxas…" And with a small smile-turned-grimace, Axel shut his eyes.

Incomprehensible sadness filled Roxas, but all he could do was smile bitterly at the dead man on the floor in front of him. "Hoffnung, Axel." He choked down a sob.

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Hoffnung - Hope

At least, if my miniscule knowledge of German is correct, that's what it means.


	2. Hoffnung

And so concludes my story... thing. I just had to add this to the end.

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A blonde man stood, stooped, in front of a small gravestone. A simple collection of small flowers, some new, some withering, suggested that he came often. Roxas lifted his head from where it had been bent in a contemplative way, and pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket.

"Look at this, Ax." He tossed it onto the gravestone with a manic laugh. "Do you know what it says?" He crouched down before the grave and gently ran his fingers across the words engraved in the stone. "It says that the American soldiers have given the people _hope_." He smiled bitterly. "They came to our town, our _home_, two days after you…" Roxas shook his head.

"Wait for me Axel. I'll catch up eventually."

And so he turned his back on the gravestone that looked out over the German city from a small hill to the east.

_Axel_

_1921 – 1945_

_**Hoffnung**_


End file.
